“Thus it was that the little prince tamed the fox. And when the time came for his departure, the fox said: ‘Oh!… I shall cry!’
‘It is your own fault,’ said the little prince. ‘I wished you no harm but you wanted me to tame you.’
‘Yes, indeed,’ said the fox.
‘But you are going to cry!’ said the little prince.
‘That is so,’ said the fox.
‘Then it has not helped you in any way!’
‘It has helped me,’ said the fox, ‘because of the color of the wheat fields.’
-Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, from The Little Prince
Slowing Down
Lately life seems to move entirely too fast. Or at least my days do. I’m not sure if it’s the discomfort of going back to what had been “normal” after two years of a blessedly slow pace, or the nature of being mom to a seven and ten year old. Probably some of both. But I do know that by the end of nearly every day I find myself begging the clock to slow down, trying to negotiate for just one more hour.
This past weekend my friend Amy and I drove down to catch the last day of Slow Exposures. Two hours of winding country backroads found me standing in a town that time appeared to have forgotten. I couldn’t help but be jealous.
Last Days of Summer
I love August. It’s one of my two most favorite months. I love the heat, the faded days, the feeling of summer winding down. And I love the in-between-ness. The pool is mostly empty, save a few lonely toys left behind, but the days are still plenty hot. The summer blooms are still full show, but I spot a few hasty leaves that are already changing color. And the occasional morning lets slip a hint of crispness in the air, but my favorite apple house isn’t open just yet. And threaded through it all there is a stillness. It is a meditation in both lament and promise.